"Yes, one hundred nails of Shinobi warriors are going to be sacrificed for the chief as a sign of their allegiance." A man with a katana tightly slung on his waist answered the Rokkaku heiress.
"No," The woman donning a blue hue of hyacinth kimono gently giggled at the samurai's understanding of the village custom, "You see, Otou-san was a hero and held as the greatest warrior of the village. No one dared to kill him and as respect, each household gives two nails to finalize his right of passage."
"Then, what happens to the real tradition???" Kawashima Nobuyuki's face appeared baffled by curiosity.
The Rokkaku heiress stood silent watching the flowers succumbed to the nature of mortality. The birth of their buds from the sturdy branches to their blooming life ending with their withered self.